Comes the Dawn
by Riverchic1998
Summary: He’s having a hard time letting her go, but he knows she needs to be happy. That doesn’t mean he’s going to be happy himself. It’s alright, because there’s beauty in the breakdown.


Title: Comes the Dawn

Author: Trille

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and other affiliates. The 'speech' that is used in this fic is actually the poem Comes the Dawn (hence, the title) by Veronica A. Shoffstall. Even part of my summary belongs to Frou Frou, from the song 'Let Go'. I found it fitting, and I also used it later in the story.

Distribution: Ask before, please.

Summary: He's having a hard time letting her go, but he knows she needs to be happy. That doesn't mean he's going to be happy himself. It's alright, because there's beauty in the breakdown.

Author's Note: This just suddenly came at me, and I had to write. It's raw and emotional, and horrible. Any mistakes are my own. This is also rather angsty and not fluffy. I used to stay away from this, but my recent moods have made me crave it.

Update: This was written back in 2006, and I decided on a whim to publish it.

* * *

As he stared out the window, memories flashed across the glass in front of him. When they were younger, they used to cause so much chaos, and they reveled in it. She was always able to sneak around better than he could, not because she was quieter, but because she knew how to sink into the shadows. He used to call her Shadow Walker because of the many times she had hidden in them just to scare him.

They grew up talking of Hogwarts, and how they would rule Slytherin. And they did. Even at the younger ages, they ruled with an iron fist. She would always say he was like a diamond—beautiful, tempting, and unbreakable. He would reply back how she was velvet covered steel, never wavering in her decisions.

As they became older, they found out many parents of children who bred to be Slytherins from birth had told their children about them. What had started out as a joke—them being the Prince and Princess of Slytherin—was almost becoming true. They gravitated toward each other and everyone knew that after school, the two would marry and have their own pureblood, Slytherin children, bathing them in darkness and silver and green.

And here he was, in the room for the groom's party, preparing to see her in her gorgeous bride's dress…

…only he wasn't the one she was giving herself to. He was giving her _away._

It was killing him. His heart clenched tightly and he had to take a steady, deep breath. He put a hand to the glass as his eyes scanned over the people beginning to mill about, discussing numerous, and rather pointless, things, he suspected. Everything looked gorgeous, and that was also mostly a topic of interest.

"Malfoy?" a voice inquired behind him. Draco sighed and turned around, surprised to see that all the other males in the room had vacated, and he was left with the one person he really didn't want to see.

"What, Potter?"

The other man was fidgeting and Draco really wanted to hex the pants off the prat, he had promised not to, if only for the bride's sake.

"Are you…okay?" Harry asked hesitantly.

_Oh, that must have hurt_, Draco thought with a grin. He just raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall by the window, cursing the sunlight that streamed through. What he wouldn't give to be able to sink into the darkness.

"Look, it's just—" Harry stopped his rushing of words and took a deep breath, "You look like you aren't enjoying yourself. And I know why, it's just—"

"You've said that twice now, Potter. 'It's just' _what_?" Draco asked sharply, curling his right hand slowly into a loose fist, a habit he had gotten when he was younger, and had never gotten rid of.

"I know you still love her," he blurted out. Draco froze on the inside, but blinked slowly as to not give away his emotions. When he didn't say anything in response, Harry sighed.

"And I know she still loves you." Draco opened his mouth in protest, but Harry raised his hands up in a sign of surrender. "No, I know she does. And that's okay."

"Oh please," Draco said in disgust as he turned around to look again out the window. Anything to distract him.

"No, just wait!" Harry pleaded. "You two have shared things that I'll never know about, and I don't want to know them. You grew up together and I get that. I do. There's something between you that I'll never even get close to, something very special. I respect that."

"I don't want, nor do I need, your pity, Potter," Draco said harshly in response, only turning his head halfway to glare at the nervous man in the center of the room. Harry was still rooted to the spot and his hands twisted together in nervousness. It almost made Draco frown. Potter was never like this—so anxious and uneasy.

Harry seemed to stop and think carefully about his next words.

_That's a miracle_, Draco thought.

"As crazy and insincere as you may take this, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

_Crazy is right!_ Draco turned around fully to give Potter the full effect of his incredulous stare. Potters had gone barmy. Totally nutters.

"You still love her, and here I am, stealing another thing from you, without really meaning to." Harry sighed and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head and looking at the floor. "I've always wanted to think of myself as self-sacrificing. I know it's not that true, but this is important. It's not affecting just me. It's affecting a lot of people, who also need to be in on the decision." Harry looked up and Draco saw the resolve in Harry's eyes that arose only when there was something very life changing happening. It was a certain glint in his eyes that strengthened Harry's stance considerably.

It was with a jerk that Draco realized what Potter had been going on about.

_He's about to ask me if I really want them to get married. And I'd bet all my fortune that if I said no he'd call it off. _

His breath rushed out of him in an instant. It was true he'd wished with all his being that Potter would have just offed Voldemort and gone his merry little way, leaving him to his pre-determined life that he really didn't want to change. But, that hadn't happened. Potter had wormed his way into his life, rather permanently now, Draco realized.

"Potter," Draco said slowly.

"No, Malfoy. You're going to answer this as truthfully and honestly as your little Slytherin black heart can."

"Potter," he stated again more firmly. He imagined his stance was also getting more pronounced and his stubbornness coming through. When he knew that he had Harry's attention, he kept his eyes locked with Harry's and didn't let them waver. He had to be strong now.

"After a while, you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul. And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't mean security." Draco turned away and looked back toward the window when a burst of laughing filtered through. "And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises."

He saw that Potter was about to open his big mouth again, and he knew, _he knew_, that if Potter interrupted, Draco was going to break, so he plunged ahead. He locked gazes again and willed himself to stay focused.

"And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open with the grace of a woman and not the grief of a child. And you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans."

Draco had to turn away again, because the words were sticking in his throat and he hadn't finished all he needed to say yet. This next part was the hardest and it desperately needed to be brought to light.

"And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much."

He had to stop as a sudden flashback of the two of them playing in the small pond behind the Manor flashed behind his eyes. He had turned so very red that he resembled a walking tomato, whereas she had just tanned into a beauty.

"So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers."

"God, Malfoy,"

_Oh hell_, he thought, _she's going to kill me for making him cry before their wedding. She hates it when his eyes get puffy and red. _Finally, Draco turned around and walked toward Harry and started in front of him, only a foot away.

"And you learn that you really can endure…that you really are strong. And you really do have worth. And you learn and learn…with every goodbye you learn."

They both sighed as voices started yelling down the hall. It was nearly time to start, and while Draco was perfectly dressed, as usual, Potter was falling apart at the seams, as usual. Draco whipped out his wand and mildly glared at Potter's frantic expression. Draco fixed the tie that was crooked and smeared out all the wrinkles on the black jacket. He shined the shoes and polished all the buttons.

"Thanks, Malfoy," Harry said quietly, before turning to the door. The people outside the door were yelling for both of them. Before Harry left, he turned to Draco and with the most open expression Draco had ever seen on his face, said, "I mean it. Thank you. For everything."

* * *

"Saving a dance for me, Shadow Walker?" Draco asked with a playful nudge.

Pansy turned around and glared at him lightly before making her excuses to the witches gathered around her and gripping his forearm gently. Her white skirts swished softly and Draco let his eyes travel over her. How he had imagined this day…and if he didn't know that Malfoys didn't have a drop of Seer blood in them, he would have sworn it was straight from a vision. He stopped them in the middle of the dance floor set aside in the ballroom and started to lead them in an elegant, yet simple, dance they had known since they could blink.

He took her in one detail at the time. Her dark hair was swept up elegantly and scattered with pearls. Pansy had always adored pearls, saying she couldn't have diamonds since she already had a life size one, meaning Draco. The veil, which was woven into her hair and hung down mid back also had pearls in them. Her choker was a pearl and diamond arrangement. The dress itself was a gorgeous white with silver thread rushed through it in intricate patterns. The dress was sleeveless and strapless, and silk white gloves covered her arms and elbow.

"What are you thinking, love?" She asked, looking into his eyes with curiosity.

"I'm thinking how gorgeous you are, and how Potter better not, for one instance, think about hurting you in any way," he replied with vehemence.

"My hero," she murmured with a small grin on her face. She gave a small laugh at the look on Draco's face, and laid her head gently on Draco's chest. Even with her heels on, he still towered over her. Harry was equally as tall, but he knew she and Harry didn't have this yet—this ability to mould to each other effortlessly. It had come from years and years of depending on each other.

"Now it's my turn to inquire about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours," Draco said with a grin. It faded when he heard the seriousness in Pansy's voice.

"Did I do the right thing, Draco?"

"Only you can answer that, sweetheart."

There was a comfortable silence as songs changed, and a lively tune started playing.

"Harry told me what you said to him today, before you came to fetch me." Pansy pulled back and smiled up at Draco. "I do love you, you know. And I know you love me. And you not only giving me away today, but giving your blessing and releasing me? It made me happier than anything, Draco. Thank you. For everything." She hugged Draco tightly.

Draco felt something die inside of him.

* * *

His clothes were thrown across the room in a messy pile leaving him in a white undershirt and dark pants. He held up the clear decanter to the light and watched the liquid inside swirl, mesmerizing him. The temptation was great—just drink the tasteless, odorless liquid and leave the pain behind.

He wasn't crying or anything that dramatic. No, Malfoys broke down in the inside, before putting themselves together.

The only problem was whenever he had broken down, he always had Pansy to put him back together. It used to unnerve him when she would stroke his head and not necessarily comfort him, but just be there. He didn't mind after she told him why she did it. She did it selfishly, and that made it okay for him. She wasn't deluding herself.

Draco hurled the glass across the room to the fire, watching it make the flames lurch up three times their normal size.

'_Why are you doing this? Staying here? I'm not going to give you anything if you're trying to get into my good graces!'_

'_Don't be stupid.'_

'_Then why are you here?'_

'_There's beauty in the breakdown.'_

_Indeed_, Draco thought humorlessly. _Though if I keep it up at this rate, there will be nothing to break of me left._

And with that he went to sleep, knowing tomorrow wouldn't be that much better.


End file.
